On a Night of Falling Stars
by MonPetitCoeur
Summary: Could love be reincarnated a thousand years after? Archaeologist Quinn Fabray unravels the story of a forbidden romance between two star-crossed lovers. And at the same time, she watches two of her friends slowly fall in love right in front of her. AU.
1. Prologue: Run, Little One, Run

**Title:** On a night of falling stars (I put my wish into my white breath)

**Pairing:** Blaine/Kurt (as of now. More later on!)

**Rating:** T (depends on chapter)

**Genre:** Drama, Romance, Adventure

**Summary:** Archaeologist Quinn Fabray had discovered a rather bittersweet piece of historical evidence: corpses of a couple who were locked in an embrace. She embarks on a journey to find out what exactly happened 1500 years ago, in the city that was buried 9 ft. deep. Not soon afterwards, her team had uncovered yet _another_ pile of bones: of which was what identified as the body of a long exiled Prince. She investigates further, trying to find out why the Prince's body looked as if it was _waiting_ for someone, and at the same time, uncover the real story in which most history books opted to intentionally _forget_.

**A/N:** First time Klaine writer. LOL. Welp. I hope you guys like this. :)

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><p><span>Prologue<span>

They were running for their lives.

Adrenaline rushed through their veins as they sprinted through the dark woods. The moon shone brightly above them, casting an eerie light over the twisted branches of the trees. The distorted silhouettes conjured up false demons, figures that weren't really there, adding paranoia to their already manic senses. Nevertheless it reassured them that no, they weren't safe. Not as long as they keep on running. And so they continued on. Hands clasped tightly together as they ran. Quick pants, loud heartbeats, and the silent shuffling of their feet as it carried them towards an unknown destination filled the deafening silence in the woods.

Suddenly, both of his knees buckled, due to exhaustion and the lack of food and water for almost three days.

"Oof!" A porcelain skinned boy, the taller of the two, lied down the ground, propping himself by his arms rather weakly. It was a futile effort. His whole body was shaking from the strain of holding himself up. He wasn't even a strong person to begin with. He wasn't like _him_. He was easy to break. _Delicate_. The scars painted on his body proved that well.

Feeling that his companion's hand slipped away from his, the other boy, the short one with wild curly hair, immediately stopped. Hazel eyes glanced around frantically, heart stopping at the thought that maybe he had been captured. But all worries briefly disappeared when he saw him struggling to get up. His relief transformed into concern. "Kurt, are you okay?" As soon as the question left his mouth, he realized that it was rather _stupid_ of him to ask. Kurt was not okay. A week spent in the dungeons, scarcely being fed with leftovers, and the past three days with a completely empty stomach was taking its toll on him.

"Can you walk?" He approached the now trembling boy.

"Blaine—"Kurt paused, his cerulean eyes shining with restrained tears. _'Go on without me'_ were the words he wanted to say. The words were on the tip of his tongue. The boy didn't want to be Blaine's burden anymore. He wanted him to be safe. He wanted—

A clamor of angry voices interrupted his train of thoughts. More importantly so, it induced reactions from the both of them. Their backs stiffened. Their stances screamed out caution, and alert, and code red, and _get the hell out of there_. From a distance, they could see a dozen of little orange blurs. At the same time, they could also see a hazy form of figures slowly making their way through the darkness of the night, fueled by their persistence, determination, disgust—and above all, _loathe_. Pure _hatred_ for the two most wanted men of their time.

"Blaine", Kurt called again, high and breathless. Fear began to creep into his system. Fear began to _grip _his whole being.

Instantly, the curly haired boy came to his aid. His whole demeanor softened for a moment, even though he was aware that the villagers were more or less quickly shortening the wide gap he had so strategically placed between them. His arms automatically wrapped themselves around the quivering, lithe, slender form. He buried his face in the crook of Kurt's neck and inhaled deeply, trying to imprint Kurt's scent and wear it on his own skin.

This wasn't _fair_. They didn't do anything wrong. And yet here they were, running for their safety. Everybody they knew, everybody they grew up with—they all turned against them. And the people who stood up for them, they either ended up in the gallows or in the same condition as them, running away from the comfort of the lives they once had. Their dreams thrown away. Their innocence stained. And once again, Blaine couldn't help but blame _himself_.

He nuzzled into his neck one more time before he pulled back. "Kurt, come on. We need to go." Draping Kurt's arm over his shoulder, he snaked his own arm unto his waist and gingerly helped Kurt up. "I know you're tired. I know you're hungry and cold. But just as soon as we could stay out of their tracks for the night and then we could rest. All right?"

Wordlessly, Kurt nodded.

They continued on, albeit at a much slower pace. The night seemed to drag on longer than usual. But there was a sudden shift in the atmosphere, both of them felt it. And it was what kept them moving too. With Kurt's vulnerability, even with Blaine's strength he couldn't fend for the two of them. Blaine gripped the handle of his sword tightly, praying to all the gods and the deities that just _one_ night, Kurt and he could make it and be able to watch the next sunrise together. Something pulled Blaine out of his thoughts at that exact moment. Instinctively, he gently pushed Kurt down the ground while he narrowly missed the arrow that whizzed by them.

Then, too soon to properly take any action, a short man holding a bow and an arrow trudged just by the little opening from the trees. "There they are!"

Blaine cursed under his breath as he heard Kurt whimper beside him. "Bear with me. I beg you."

Quickly as he could, he tugged at Kurt's arm and led them to the stray path, fully aware of where he was leading them both to. Feeling Kurt's desperate limping, a pang of guilt hit him. If only Blaine had enough strength to carry Kurt in his arms, he would have done so. But stressing that Kurt _was_ injured, then Blaine figured that he should preserve whatever little energy he had left in order to get both of them by.

The pathless road they've been on turned to gravel, sloping downwards, leading them to an open area filled with fallen trunks, some moss, and patches of grass. And beyond that was the vast ocean, reflecting the ink colored sky. They were on the cliff. Blaine and Kurt walked toward the edge, peering at the bottom. It was a silent night. All they could hear were the waves crashing against the rocks. Both men closed their eyes.

It was unmistakable. The sound of the vindictive words all thrown together, and the gradual approach of rapid footsteps fell on their ears. The mob was heading the right direction.

Kurt let out a choked sob.

Slowly, warm liquid hazel eyes turned to the fragile form next to him. Without taking his eyes off of him, he squeezed his hand.

With tear-stained cheeks yet bright blue eyes, Kurt looked at him.

_'Courage'_, Blaine's eyes seemed to say as he squeezed his hand. Not trusting his voice at all, Kurt could only nod and squeeze back in response. They both paused for a moment. From the corner of his eyes, Blaine could make the outline of the horde that was ruthlessly hunting them down in the forest. The little flashes of orange light were his only signal of how close they were getting. And from the looks of it, a few meters apart, they didn't have much time at all.

Realization kicking in, all the emotions Blaine had been trying to swallow down come right back up. All the pain, the _hurt_, the anxiety, the uncertainty, the _fear_—he pulled Kurt into his arms and locked him in an affectionate embrace. He buried his face in Kurt's neck, a habit he had developed whenever he just wasn't feeling well. To him, feeling Kurt's skin against his, just by _inhaling_ Kurt's scent, it made him think that whatever he was worrying about was silly. He couldn't help it. Kurt was just magical. Just like that.

"You and I", Blaine intertwined their fingers, "against the world."

That made the younger smile. He pulled back gently, tilted his head, and then kissed him softly on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you too", the older answered in a heartbeat.

The steps were getting closer now. They both could see the fire burning from their torches just above the slope. The noise got louder as they _finally_ had their assailants within their reach. It was just a matter of a few seconds now.

"I'm yours, Blaine. Remember that", Kurt whispered, eyes squeezing shut as he felt themselves both subconsciously edge the cliff.

Blaine tightened the grip on his hand. "And I, yours."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

They jumped.

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><p><strong>AN:** Lol. Let me think?


	2. Chapter One: Quinn Fabray

**Title:** On a night of falling stars (I put my wish into my white breath)

**Pairing:** Blaine/Kurt (as of now. More later on!)

**Rating:** PG-13 (depends on chapter)

**Genre:** Drama, Romance, Adventure

**Summary:** Archaeologist Quinn Fabray had discovered a rather bittersweet piece of historical evidence: skeletal remains of a couple who were locked in an embrace. She embarks on a journey to find out what exactly happened 1500 years ago, in the city that was buried 10 ft. deep. Not soon afterwards, her team had uncovered yet _another_ pile of bones: of which was what identified as the body of a long exiled Prince. She investigates further, trying to find out why the Prince's body looked as if it was _waiting_ for someone, and at the same time, uncover the real story in which most history books opted to intentionally _forget_.

**A/N:** Trolololol. Lol.

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><p><span>Chapter One.<span>

Honey colored eyes scanned the headline warily.

**Pictured: Roman lovers buried holding hands for 1500 years**

_Snort_.

_'The skeletal remains of a Roman-era couple have been unearthed showing the pair had been holding hands for the past 1,500 years. '_

Yes, the pair died whilst _'looking into each other's eyes.'_ No matter how horribly cliché that sounded, it was the truth. Yes, they discovered the skeletal remains in Modena, Italy. Yes, the date was accurate. Judging the way the remains almost combined with the earth for so long, and then they were correct on assuming that the bodies were buried sometime 5th and 6th century A.D. She skipped on a few lines. Blah, blah, blah. Ah, there we go.

_'"We believe that they were originally buried with their faces staring into each other's," said Donato Labate, the director of the excavation.'_

A pretty doll-esque blonde, holding the newspaper, rolled her eyes at the name. _Of course_ they would mention Professor Labate. He was the director of the excavation after all. And to those who really knew him, he was one of the most distinguished professors in the University. However vague his comment might be, it proved to be already a _fact_ to the readers and to pretty much everybody. She continued reading the article. Her name was not mentioned. Despite the fact that _she_ found the Roman Lovers, only a part of the general _"Archaeologists_" in one of the sentences pertaining to the hypothetical assumptions about the background of the skeletal remains.

_'The skeletons will now be studied by Giorgio Gruppioni, an anthropologist at the University of Bologna. '_

Her eyes widened. Now _that_ was new. From their last phone conversation, Professor Labate reassured her that yes, for now their archaeological findings would temporarily reside in the University of Bologna. After all, they were in _Italy_, so that was understandable. But they were still going to search an anthropologist preferably from their own University. As part of the excavation team, she was not informed of this development at all. And when was this newspaper dated? She checked. Oh, it was an issue from _last year_. She growled and hastily flung the newspaper to her side. How could she have not seen this coming? If the skeletons were now studied in the University by this unknown Giorgio Gruppioni, who knows what important facts they might omit once they presented their findings to the public.

She couldn't help it. She was paranoid like that. No, no, it was partly due to the fact that she was a _woman_. And as modern as this society now is, they still bluff at the idea of a woman working in what was supposed to be a _man's_ job. Back when she was in the University, nobody ever trusted her or even took her seriously. They were all sexists. And that was probably the lowest form of discrimination she had ever experienced in all of her life. But it made her strong. It made her push harder. It made her confident. Nobody was allowed to talk her down.

And she showed them.

Quinn Fabray graduated the top of her class. A Summa Cum Laude in the field of Archaeology in the prestigious Harvard University. Nobody expected that her life would turn an unexpected 180 degrees. Not her friends, her classmates, her Professors. Not even her parents. All they knew was that she was the blonde cheerleader captain from high school, owning the whole student body, with everybody wrapped around her finger. She finished high school. And what everybody expected of her was that she was going to get knocked up during her first year of college. Surprisingly, she didn't. Then everybody thought that the course she was going to take was education, since she was obviously good with children, or journalism, or even modeling. But then again, she wasn't one to follow the trends. She was the trend setter.

She always had a knack for history since she was in high school. And figuring out the past of other people, as well as what happened a few thousand years ago interested her. But she knew that the _men_ who wrote history were a bit sort of..._biased_. After all, that was why they called it history right? _His_ story. A way to gratify all numbskull male species who made the mistake of repeating the same error twice. There were such few mentions of female figures in the books. And most of them, such as Marie Antoinette, did not reflect or give out a positive response that would somehow uplift the status of women. They were already listed as slaves, caretakers, homebodies, and governesses. They weren't allowed to read, to write, to speak out, and especially _think_. No, no. Only men were allowed to do that. And so, instead of taking a degree in History, Quinn wanted to experience something new. Something like discovering the unraveling of historical pieces firsthand. Something that she could work hard on and assess that it was the _truth_. She didn't trust the higher-ups, or anybody else in authority for that matter.

Hence, _Archaeology_.

"Hey, Quinn", an obviously dyed blonde guy peeked his head from the flap of the tent. "We found something." His blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

Quinn nodded. A small smile curling on her lips. "Thanks, Sam. I'll be right out."

"Cool", Sam nodded back and disappeared.

The blonde girl shook her head, deliberately putting her past behind her. What was important now was that _she_ was the head of this excavation. It was a simple follow-up of what they did the previous year. But it was severely difficult for the proposal to be approved by the University. Scratch that, nothing was ever easy there. It had taken several _months_ for the right papers to be signed, passed around, distributed, filled out correctly, analyzed so and so forth before presenting it to the coordinators. They summoned Quinn, as she was the one who proposed the whole thing. At once, a barrage of skeptic questions were fired at her. What was the purpose of the whole excavation? Limits? Scope? Range? What were her objectives? Not to mention the whole _financial_ matters of the proposal were also handed to her. Those were fine. She was _over_ prepared. She had definitely put those factors into consideration as she planned the whole thing down to the tiniest detail. Several sponsors and friends helped chipped in for the whole financial matter. Her team was composed of the people she trusted from the previous excavations she went to. Her proposal paper was submitted perfectly. All answers to questions that were obviously going to asked could be found there. Along with the contact number and addresses of people needed and responsible for the event. The map of the location was also laid out, marked from where up to the specific limited range only. In short, Quinn was _that_ determined to go back to the site.

There was one question that completely caught her off-guard though.

One of the elders stares at her, a sneer cruelly set on his face. "Is it possibly that the only reason why you want another excavation, Miss Fabray", he almost smirks at the name, "is that you want to follow Professor Labate's footsteps? Hopefully rise up to fame through this excavation?"

Oh.

_Oh_.

Shock had rendered her speechless.

"Well? Miss Fabray?"

Putting herself together, she took a deep breath as she calmly listed down several reasons to herself that strangling and beating the daylights out of an old man would most likely end her ass in prison, and in no way would it help in achieving her dreams. Clenching her fists, she managed to pull off a somewhat winsome smile directed at her aggressor.

"Absolutely not, Professor. That thought did not even cross my mind. Because seeing as I'm valiantly making effort in changing the perspective of history through just a man's point of view, I have been concentrating all my time in researching the possible lifestyle the skeletal remains ("_I found"_, she silently added) Professor Labate found. I think it would be a good point of interest to further expand. Who knows what underlying facts and undiscovered culture or important event we have overlooked just because we are busy in asserting whether or not a diligent researcher's motive is pure and not sought for fame." She finished her little ramble with that same (cold, calculating, taunting) smile.

Needless to say, that got their excavation approved.

And now, already on their third day of their second week, there had been not much progress. Some old (yet entirely meaningless) artifacts, more hideously preserved skeletal remains, and what seemed to be an old part of a book (the cover survived, were the only ones they have dug from exactly 10 feet under. But aside from those trivial things, there was no other founding that have caught Quinn's interest. She was already beginning to lose hope. Did she, somehow, make a mistake in the location? One thing she was sure of though: She would never be able to show her face again if _nothing_ came out from this.

Boots trudging into the dirt, she placed her hat on as the sunlight's rays hit her sensitive skin.

Sam was patiently waiting outside, talking to another of their team member, Mike Chang.

"All right Sam", she clicked her tongue, "What is it?"

The other blonde shared an excited grin with Mike. But before Sam could fully dish out and present where this _'mysterious'_ finding would be, Mike intervened. "But...Sam! She's going to get _mad_."

"What? Why? Why should I get angry about this?" Quinn asked.

"No reason", Sam glared at Mike before grinning at Quinn. The mood shift was astounding. But the Asian just stared at her worriedly. Sam elbowed him, earning a yelp. "I said, _'no reason'_ right?"

Silence.

"Dude!"

"What? I _still_ need to graduate, you know. And if she finds out what we've—scratch that. If she finds out what _you've_ done, it's going to be worse. Nobody would ever find my dead body because she's going to scatter the tiny pieces to the ocean! I'll be fish food, Sam! And it's because you want to woo her with your—mmff!" A hand suddenly flew to Mike's mouth and pulled him backwards rather harshly. "Hahaha!" Sam laughed nervously. "That's a great joke Mike! Sorry about that, Quinn. He's just hungry and the sun and—"

Quinn sighed exasperatedly. She didn't know if she should strangle him for keeping her waiting or laugh at him for being so goddamn _adorable_.

"Sam", said guy abruptly stopped at whatever he was doing, "just show me. Please. Now."

With a sigh, Sam hung his head and gestured towards the direction they were going to: the excavation site. "This way, then." Mike quickly jumped in the whole thing and began another string of arguments with the sudden depressed blonde. Quinn shook her head. Boys were _so_ predictable.

The site was still ever so diligently working. Shovels were scattered around. Random deep dug holes filled out an entire section. People were busily shuffling past them, trying to connect evidence that they found with another if ever the pieces they saw were further broken into pieces. The range she had stated in the proposal paper stretched out from their previous excavation up until the little opening in the forest nearby. When they had entered the forest, she tilted her head in curiosity.

They were going _off-track_.

Where were they leading her?

"Okay. Mike, you head down first", she heard Sam instruct the taller. With an excited grin, Mike glided down the _gravel_-filled slope almost gracefully. Wait. _Gravel_? _Slope_? They definitely weren't allowed in here anymore. So this was what Mike meant about her getting angry once she finds out. And rightfully angry she was! If word got out that she was willingly _'bending'_ the rules just so she could dig out some dead—

Sam caught on almost immediately what was going through her head. "Woah, woah. Jesus, Mike's right. Chill Quinn. There's nothing-"

"_Nothing_?" Quinn almost screeched. Seeing him wince, she huffed out exasperatedly and tried to calm down just a little bit.

"Nothing?" She hissed. "What do you mean _'nothing'_? Sam, you know this is prohibited! We could literally get our asses arrested once they find out that we've broken our own word about crossing certain boundaries!"

"Relax", he rolled his eyes. "What could be worse—"

"What could be worse? Has it ever crossed your mind that _after_ they strip us of our authority on all things related to our field, they would publicly humiliate us, and get us into prison, that they have the _power_ and the _right_ to confiscate whatever findings that we have in our grasp? Huh? Sure say we have the noble motive of sacrificing things in order to search out for the truth. But once they _have_ all the facts that we worked hard to uncover, and in the end, _they're_ the ones distorting history, then _we're_ the losers."

An awkward and tension-filled silence hung between them. They were currently a few steps outside the forest. The dirt-ridden path changed to gravel ones, sloping downwards, leading to a flat land filled with fallen trunks, some mosses, and patches of grass, with a picturesque view of the vast ocean reflecting the colors of the pretty sky above. She peered down, seeing the tall Asian guy kick pebbles childishly. Crossing her arms, a scowl etched on her usually passive expression. What the hell were they going to do now? She glanced past Sam's back. What if somebody followed them? What if somebody overheard their conversation? How will she explain this?

Sam's jaw was clenched. His whole posture was tense. "I...I _am_ sorry for not thinking this through, Quinn. But trust me on this one." She looked nonplussed so he continued. "And I _swear_, nobody's following us. I made it sure to be as discreet as possible, didn't I? Aside from Mike, I haven't told anyone else."

A suspicious brow rose. "Why?"

But before Sam could respond, Mike shouted from below. "Yo dude! What's taking so long? You guys okay?"

"We're fine! Just give us a minute!" The tall blonde yelled back. When he turned to the petite archaeologist, she was still patiently waiting for his answer. _'Do I really have to answer this_?' was written all over his face. And honestly, Quinn really wanted to laugh at him. He was _so_ pathetic. Pathetically adorable. But carefully, she kept her emotions in check. "Well?" She urged.

Heat flooded his cheeks. Eyes averted, looking at anywhere else except her. "It's because I wanted to impress you...Okay? Mike and I were checking out the whole place and we accidentally discovered something we think that might be important. So we didn't tell anybody else...And I...I went to you so yeah..." Scratching his head sheepishly, he gave her a timid smile.

"Dude! Quit flirting with her and get down here already! I haven't eaten lunch yet!"

So much for being his wing-man.

Rolling her eyes, Quinn offered him a small smile. Just to let him know that she understood his perspective, not the _'to impress you'_ part, rather the _'we think it might be important'_ part. As an archaeologist, it was rationally better to follow your instincts when dealing with decision making. Sam was right. If this was something that was worth taking a risk for, then she was all up for it. She just hoped that it wouldn't disappoint her.

Like the former, she copied his graceful movement of gliding down the gravel, albeit in a slower manner. Once she reached down, Mike politely assisted her since the part was dangerously slippery due to the combination of moss and wet patches of grass. The little opening from the forest led to a cliff. She walked towards the edge of the cliff, ignoring the slight bickering going on behind her. The view of the ocean was breathtaking. It stretched out beyond, seemingly infinite. Glancing downwards, she caught sight of a makeshift rope ladder which was firmly tied around a boulder to her left.

"It's a bit far ahead. See the cave over there?" Sam explained as he caught her puzzled expression. Honey brown eyes gazed to where he was pointing at. Just a few miles from the cliff, there was a rocky part of the ocean wherein a series of connected caves which formed labyrinths was seen. The one Sam was pointing at was the cave with the biggest mouth, and already, Quinn could feel it _calling_ to her. "How are we going to go there?"

"We already have one of those fisherman boats prepared down there." She gazed downwards. At the end of the rope, there was a boat tied to one of the sharp rocks. "Since it's kind of dangerous, I'll—"

Mike cut in smoothly, nonchalantly positioning himself by the rope. "_I'll_ go down first. That way, Sam won't ever have the chance to perv on you while you descend." He threw in a little teasing wink at her.

"Oh, and _you_ won't?" The tall Asian guy was anything but sweet to her. And it wasn't because she was _confident_ that she was heartrendingly beautiful or that she was practically sex on legs-despite accusing majority of guys as sexists, she couldn't help but view general male species to be rational beings thinking with their genital organ instead of their brain.

Chuckling good naturedly, he began to lower himself down carefully. "Don't get me wrong, Miss Fabray. You're pretty and all but..." he grinned, "I honestly prefer my girlfriend more."

A sound which somewhat resembled a peal of bells filled the air. Startlingly, Sam identified it that it was actually their petite team leader _laughing_. He had been awe struck by her _beauty_, _elegance_, _intelligence_, and not to mention that sheer _confidence_, the one that made her strive harder, that helped her survived in a pack of wolves in sheepskin—he didn't notice that he was _blatantly_ staring at her at that moment.

And he would have continued to do so, if it weren't for the fact that Quinn _coughed_ just to pull him out of his thoughts. "So, the location's pretty hard to find under radar."

"Well, I like exploring", the taller flashed him an honest grin.

"_Guys! I made it!_" They both heard Mike shout from below. With an encouraging gaze from Sam, Quinn descended the rope carefully. The air was a bit drafty at this part, and the rope was beginning to become slippery in between her fingers. But with utmost concentration, she had managed to safely get in the boat with Mike. A few minutes after, Sam followed suit. Everything else had went on smoothly as planned. Quinn was the one who untied the boat from its parking spot, despite protests from the boys, who were claiming that _she_ wasn't supposed to do anything, not because of her gender, but because _they_ had invited _her_ and so, they were the ones who were supposed to do the work.

The blonde girl waved it off impatiently.

It was a twenty five to thirty minute ride, comparatively short to most of the boat transportations they have been on. As they reached the mouth of the cave, silence came over them. It wasn't because they didn't have any words or comments to say. It was simply because there was _no need._ The cave was absolutely breath-taking. And as Sam tied the boat to one of the makeshift posts, Quinn and Mike quickly jumped off and entered the underground lair.

"It's so..._beautiful_ in here..." Quinn absentmindedly ran her delicate fingers against the tainted, cold, hard, wall.

"Wait 'til you see what we discovered", the Asian smugly grinned as he lit up a piece of wood with his lighter. Sam did the same thing. Since it was only afternoon, there was still some light entering the cave. But as soon as they dived deeper into it, their natural source of light was slowly diminishing. "The body could be found somewhere relatively far from the opening. We theorized that whoever it was living in here could be hiding from someone outside."

"Or he could simply be a hermit", Sam deadpanned.

Mike scoffed. "Right, because considering all the possessions we found alongside, we could say that he was a religious man shutting himself from the outside world."

Before Sam could retort back, Quinn intervened. "What do you mean by _'possessions'_?"

"Well, if you look closely—"

"Oh my god _Sam_, why don't you just draw her a picture, huh? What's the use of showing her if you're going to yap about it in here?"

"What? She was _asking_", he defended. "And I was merely _answering_."

Mike snorted. "If she asked you to find the Lost City of Atlantis, I bet you'd do it so willingly."

"And I _bet_ if _your_ girlfriend asked you to stop being Asian, you'd do it so _willingly._"

"Hey! That's racist!"

"No, that was merely stating a fact."

"You just couldn't stand the thought that I'm spilling all your dirty secrets to Miss Fabray here."

"I was—"

Quinn sighed loudly. What, were they children or something? "Guys!" She snapped. "Focus! Where's the body you uncovered?"

Mike and Sam had the decency to look sheepish. And then they shrugged. "Oh that?" Mike raised his torch. "We're already right here." He gestured to where they were standing.

And then that was when Quinn saw _everything_. Her eyes widened, and she was sure that her heart stopped beating. Because among all the excavation sites that she went to, _this_ was probably the most exhilarating one she ever went on. Her eyes hungrily took everything in. And she unknowingly let out a gasp.

"Oh my _god_."

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><p><strong>AN: Lol. I'm tired. *sigh* Sorry if Quinn seemed like she was too much of a feminist. But in the show, wasn't she a feminist? I kinda got into that whole thing when my Phil. Lit Prof talked about the standings of women in society and stuff. She explained the whole _his_tory thing. LOL. **

**Hope you enjoyed! If there are reviews...You'll all get a flashback (and a majority of a chapter filled with Kurt/Blaine. Huzzah.)**

***Dies***


	3. Chapter Two: Illegal

**A/N: **Been putting this off for a while. So many fics to update. :'( Should I focus on completing one first or what? Okay, maybe I could work with two at the same time. Fine. _Three_ fics at a time it is. Okay, now tell me, which fics do you want to see to update in a fixed manner? Give me three. :)

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><p><em>Cold, tired, hungry.<em>

_The pain caused by the arrow bloomed from his shoulders downwards, effectively numbing his arm. His right foot was grotesquely twisted. His lungs hurt. And each time he breathed, it felt like someone was squeezing his throat, slowly leading him to his death. Sometimes, he thought that if he stopped breathing, all the pain would stop as well._

_Tired hazel eyes glanced downwards._

_His clothes were tattered, filthy, and ragged. The blood that seeped from his wound caused his shirt to be drenched from it, making it sticky, filling his senses with the smell of salt and rust, and overall, making him nauseous. His tanned skin darkened further. Small cuts, scratches, burns, and grazes filled his once flawless skin. A combination of dirt and dried blood clung to him, mapping his body like some sort of dark, gruesome story. _

_One that didn't have a happy ending._

_He felt light, as if he was floating in the sky. Was he? Was he floating in the sky? He opened his eyes. When did he close them? Everything was spinning out of control. All he could see were blurs of colors: green, gray, blue, red, again and again and again. It was a never ending kaleidoscope. It made him dizzy. Gently, he rested his head against the cold, hard wall, ignoring the uneven, sharp surface. The slight snap he _felt_ his neck make riled the churning of his stomach more._

_His stomach wanted to push its content upwards. It wanted to make him vomit. But the problem was, he simply didn't _have_ anything to hurl out. When was the last time he ate? When was the last time he had anything to drink? When was the last time he had properly gotten any sleep? Because once he closed his eyes, all he could ever think about was the fact that he wasn't _complete_. He could only think about the pain, the loneliness, the regret, and worse of all, the _yearning._ It pained him physically, mentally, and emotionally._

_Blaine's head began to throb. Every single inch of him ached. _

_Cold, tired, hungry._

_Lonely._

_He wanted to close his eyes. He really wanted to._

_He wanted to let go._

_But he couldn't. Wouldn't. He shook himself awake, paying no heed to his current condition, forgetting himself, as usual. It was a bad habit of his; after all, he was always reminded by..._

_Blaine's tears began to fall. It hurt to cry. It really did._

_But what hurt him more was the fact that he was...That his other half was..._

_Letting out a pathetic whimper, Blaine's heart squeezed excruciatingly. Yes, yes, his whole body hurt. His chest ached. His face was a mess of blood, tears, and snot. His clothes were an even bigger of a mess. But he didn't care._

_There was only _one_ thing—one _person_ he cared about. He lived for._

_And so, he sat there, so close to breaking, teetering between sanity and insanity, clinging to hope, despite cynically doubting of its existence. After all they've been through, he didn't believe in such things anymore. Did he have any reason to? Would he still be allowed to?_

_Blaine sat there, waiting._

_Just waiting._

* * *

><p>"They're beautiful", Quinn murmured in awe as she stepped closer to the rather frail figure that was in front of her. Absentmindedly grabbing the torch from Sam, she reached out to shed some light to the object she was staring at with so much attention.<p>

Sam approached her and let out a impressed whistle. "Wow. And on our first try, we hit a jackpot!"

The skeleton was almost _ancient_. It was in the same condition as the previous couple Quinn had discovered with her professor. And it certainly was _beautiful_. It was almost merging with the cave; the outline was half-solid and already half-engraved. The body was seated, or accurately stated, _slumped_ backwards, as if it had no energy or whatsoever. The blonde archaeologist crouched down, lighting the body from head till foot, immediately stepping into her field of expertise.

"How old do you think it is?" Sam asked, as he watched Quinn fondly. He knew he was being...unprofessional at the moment. But he promised to himself that he would be serious if their team leader would stop being so _adorable_. "Because based from the height, I'd say the owner of the body, whoever it was, was just a kid. Or a teenager. Look how short it is."

She snorted, mentally chastising herself for being..._unprofessional_ and _unladylike_ at the same time. "Are you serious? What year are you in College again?"

"Hey!" the tall blond frowned, offended. "I'm already in my last year. I'm just gathering up more facts and research _and_ experience. Once I fly back, then it would be for my dissertation."

Honey amber eyes critically surveyed him, clearly unimpressed. "Really? You're going to be an archaeologist with _that_ level of knowledge? Are you serious? Because if you are, I'm going to drop you off the team right this instant. I _cannot_ believe that you couldn't identify a fully matured skeleton from a child's skeleton! Look at its pelvic bone, Sam, look at the size of its skull, did you learn that or were you just absent when the professor taught it to class?"

Sam raised his hands in surrender. "Geeze woman, take a chill pill. I was just kidding around."

"Does it look like I'm kidding around, Sam? In case you haven't noticed, we're actually _working_ right now."

"I know that we're working", he rolled his eyes at Quinn's disbelieving glance, "what's got that to do with you having no sense of humor or whatsoever?"

Quinn turned around to fully glare at him. "I'm just putting you back in place. You were being unprofessional."

"It was _me_ being unprofessional?" Sam scoffed. "Who was it snorting and working herself up to hysteria a few seconds ago?"

Mike quickly intervened, silently not wanting to add any more corpses than possible. "Okay, okay", he stepped in between the two blondes. "Right now, you're _both_ being unprofessional. Let's get back to the task at hand. Now, Miss Fabray, are you still thinking of ratting us to the higher ups or are we going to have...an extensive field of work on this..._privately_?"

Slipping back to her work mode, she scanned the rest of the cave. There were a few scattered things on the floor: a tattered blanket, some broken ceramics, what seemed to be the charred remains of a plate, and a wrapped object in one corner. Curiosity piqued, she slowly walked towards it. "Mike, come here." Playing oblivious to Sam's annoyed grunt, Quinn instructed Mike to _carefully_ untangle the knot that was holding the covers together.

She needed to know what was inside.

A gasp left her pretty lips as the Asian was successful doing her bidding. Once the thin, moth-eaten blanket fell apart, it uncovered to be far from Quinn's expectations of what was inside. It was yet _another_ body.

This time, it was a child's.

* * *

><p><em>The waves were gently splashing against the rocks. It was as if it was caressing it, as a lover would, before it slipped back into the ocean. The sky was clear and blue, no clouds lingering behind, warming of an ominous happening.<em>

_All in all, it was one of Blaine's better days._

_He neatly tied back the bundle that was given to him just a few hours ago. He had already budgeted on his daily ratio of reliefs so that it would last a week. He didn't know when he could get a fresh set of clothes, food, water, and some salve and herbs for his wounds. It wouldn't hurt to become prepared. _

_Pushing the bundle aside, he walked a few steps towards the mouth of the cave, and sat down. Hugging his knees, bright, warm, hopeful hazel eyes glanced up the sky. It really was a beautiful day. Closing his eyes, he listened to the soft sounds of the sea, the chirping of the sea gulls, and his own heartbeat. Everything was so peaceful. And as his mind dangerously fleeted on unnecessary memories, he tried to reminisce what his life was before he got himself tangled into this quandary._

_The sound of the joyful music made the musicians and the jesters of the court in the palace, the soft feeling of silk against his skin, the scent of mouth-watering feasts, the feeling of falling asleep on his soft and comfortable bed—It was all but a dream now. It seemed so...surreal._

_And as he began to feel homesick, he remembered the people who had betrayed him. Worst of all, the face of the evil, sneaky, cruel bastard who caused all of this haunted his dreams every night. And who exactly was the one responsible? It was none other than Blaine's cousin, no matter how vaguely related they were. They were still family. Weren't families supposed to trust each other? Feelings of resentment and hate curling in his gut, Blaine decided to not waste time remembering the unpleasant memories._

_He closed his eyes, his mind automatically working with his heart. Thoughts about chestnut brown hair, of beautiful diamond eyes which seemed to change from blue to green to gray, porcelain skin, and pretty lips filled his mind. And then it progressed further to his memories, from awkward confessions, to stolen kisses in the hallway, to jealousy, to forbidden relationships to breaking laws to fighting for their love-fighting for each _other_._

_A frown formed unto his lips. _

_Did all of those really happen just a year ago? Not too soon after, he felt the familiar gut-wrenching, heartbreaking _pain_ crawl underneath his skin, slowly consuming his strength, weakening him to a mindless, numb, yearning _human being_. Goosebumps rose in his skin. And there it was, the familiar ache in his chest, the one that made him feel that living was not an option if...if...Blaine shook his head. He couldn't even think about him! Couldn't even mention _his_ name without—! Without—!_

_Sinking to his knees, fresh tears stained his cheeks. A sob wrenched out from him, ignoring the dull throb coming from his shoulder. _

_This was getting ridiculous. He couldn't stay there anymore. It was going to push him over the edge._

_And he didn't have to—not yet. Not when he already had a reason to wake up every morning. Not when he finally had something to look forward to._

_But it hurt. The pain increased every single day they were...they were...Blaine shook his head._

_Tired hazel eyes glanced upward. The sky was clear. The sun was bright. The birds were chirping. Yes, yes, everything was lovely._

_It was such a beautiful day._

_Dragging himself up, he forced himself to do the inevitable. Grabbing one of the blankets left for them—him, him, because he was alone _now_, he approached the lifeless figure huddled into the corner. Forcing himself to look at the delicate, innocent, defenseless figure, it reminded Blaine of his own failures. Of his failure to protect his people. Of his failure to protect himself. Of his failure to even protect this child. And most certainly of all, his inability to protect—_

_Squeezing his eyes shut, he bit his lip to stop himself from crying, from making any more noise, from _feeling_._

_Lightly, he covered the body, unable to look at it himself._

_Weak. Pathetic. Coward._

_That's what he was._

_Agonized hazel eyes glanced outside the cave. _

_It was such a beautiful day for a funeral._

* * *

><p>"They're all the same age, the same as the couple from before, somewhere around 511 A.D.", Quinn subconsciously explained as her eyes hungrily took in every faded form, every intricate detail, mentally taking notes and planning actions. "This is incredible. Look at all these things. Archaeologists would commit <em>suicide<em> to get a big discovery as this one. Imagine the history we could unravel if we could only get more facts."

Mike and Sam slyly glanced at each other.

They had this in the bag.

"So does that mean that you know...We're going to do a bit more snooping around...Without permission?" Mike innocently asked.

"In a way that we'd be sneaking behind the council's backs and taking credit for doing something illegal?" Sam grinned.

Quinn remained oblivious for a few moments, taking out her magnifying glass to inspect the body of the child, to see if there was any further information they could get before they officially begin the investigation. "Quinn?" Sam called.

With a sigh, the young team leader turned to face them. "_Yes_, we're going to do an extensive yet unwarranted digging in this location. And possibly, we need to do some landscaping, some exploring so we could see how further we could stretch or possibilities and determine the limitations of our range." She huffed annoyingly at the duo's Cheshire smirks on their stupid faces. "Since we're breaking the rules now anyway, why don't we do it thoroughly."

"Hey, hey. We're not judging", Sam raised his hands again in peace. "We're actually proud that our team leader's going to bend some rules for the sake of progressing her research-for the sake of discovery. It's the same with art right? Art's about pushing boundaries. I find archeology to be a mixture between science and art."

Delighted at this somewhat helpful insight, Quinn relaxed a bit. And then as she finished going over her next step she approached the two and told them about her plan.

"Seeing as this operation would be done confidentially, I'm afraid that I would have to use a separate team." Quinn sighed, knowing that _that_ would be the most troublesome of all. "The two of you would be the crossing members of both fields then, and should I need to remind you that if either of you _accidentally_ slip about this illicit act that we're doing, I'm not the only one who would be in trouble, _all_ the members of the team would be involved, and that means the two of you. So you should know better than to be reckless about this, alright?"

They nodded solemnly, obviously knowing the weight of seriousness of the whole situation.

"Good", she nodded. "Now as for the research department, I want you to ring up Professor Montgomery from Yale. He's one of my friends, tell him that we need him as soon as possible. He'll be able to dig up a few more volunteers for our case. And Mike? I understand that your girlfriend's related to our field?"

Mike looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Yes. She's a Paleontologist."

"Fantastic. Pull her in."

"What about the other 'explorers'?"

"I'm going to call in a favor from some people from my previous expeditions."

"Great. Mike and I would start venturing to the forest a boat ride away from here. Do you need anything else?"

"I'll need to have some of the equipment in here tomorrow. Not to mention the question of _when_ are we going to creep in here."

Sam thought about it for a bit. "You only assigned two to three people tomorrow since you've announced that it's generally a day-off. They're no doubt going to enjoy their selves in the city, by then. We have the whole day to ourselves. We only have to go back during a prescribed time—or randomly, to be much better but at regular intervals to avoid suspicion from the others."

"When are your friends going to chip in, Miss Fabray?"

"Around three to five days, tops. We have plenty of time to spare by then." Quinn cupped her chin as the gears in her brain started to work faster. "We could begin now and take pictures of these, see what we could find, send some early information to the other team. Then we could head down to the city library tonight to start deciphering the mystery behind these."

The boys grinned at her. "We knew why we picked you as our leader for a reason."

"Of course you did. If you didn't, then you're still stuck playing in the sandbox for now."

Quinn went back to the adult skeleton, immersing herself to the tiny details, seeing if she could make out any more information without needing the use of the right tools or equipment. Apparently, the body was of an average height (during that era), whoever it was died when _he_ was around his 20s, and the left shoulder—

"Quinn?"

"What?" she snapped furiously, hating that she was interrupted.

"Aren't you going to say something to us?"

". . . "

"Quinn."

"Fine", she rolled her eyes. "_Great_ job, guys."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry if this sucked and I took long. I got stuck on the part on how to insert flashbacks. Oh well. It's 4:10 AM in here and I need to sleep. I apologize for any mistakes. Next to be updated: Those Summer Nights, Welcome to Burlesque, then Through Persistence, Determination and Stalking.**

**Livejournal account: frogprince27 . livejournal . com**

**So yeah. Review.**


	4. Chapter Three: Voi Due!

**Title:** On a Night of Falling Stars (3/?)

**Pairings:** Sam/Quinn (one-sided) ; Mike/Tina (implied) [For this chapter!]

**Rating: T **[For this chapter], but **M** over-all

**Genre: **Romance, Tragedy, Drama, History

**Summary:** _Could love be reincarnated a thousand years after? Archaeologist Quinn Fabray unravels the story of a forbidden romance between two star-crossed lovers. And at the same time, she watches two of her friends slowly fall in love right in front of her. AU._

**A/N: **Changed the summary! I couldn't help but feel iffy about the previous one. The shorter, the better! :D This chapter's going to be very short, me thinks. I'm sorry if I haven't been updating regularly. :'( Here goes!

PS: I was incredulously happy when they announced that Quinn passed _Yale_. What a coincidence, huh? Lol.

* * *

>"Seriously, dude, you're <em>obvious<em>. It's as if you have this sign over your head", Mike gesticulated over his head. "Which has _AVAILABLE_ written all over in big, shiny lights." He automatically switched his rowing to the other side when he saw Sam signal.

The blonde's expression turned apprehensive. "Am I really? I thought I actually was being subtle."

"As subtle as a dog in heat", Mike deadpanned. "In Summer."

Sam stopped rowing and frowned. He turned back to look at Mike in the eye. "But I don't want her in _that_ way, Mike. Out of all the people, you should know that."

"I was just kidding, man." A pause. "And hey! Who told you to stop? Keep rowing!" He nudged him hard on his shoulder with the top end of his paddle. Annoyed, Sam impatiently swatted it away.

He rubbed his aching shoulder. Grabbing his paddle, he dipped it in the water and began rowing. "Honestly though", his voice distant, "do you think I have a chance...?"

They alternated their positions again. A damp, slightly cold breeze whiffed through them, carrying a scent of salt and water and _sun_. Across them stretched blue: infinite, never-ending blue. A moment has passed by them unknowingly. "Do you want the truth or one of those not-so-little white lies that wouldn't hurt your feelings?" Mike answered after a while.

Sam gave him a _look_.

Sighing, Mike momentarily stopped his rowing, choosing to carefully focus on his words first. After all, it wasn't _all_ the time that Sam asked advice from him. After all, it wasn't _all_ the time that he was actually asked something..._profound_. It made him feel significant.

"Miss Fabray is ambitious", Sam stopped rowing, eagerly taking his honest account into consideration. "Not only is she ambitious, but she's also independent. She's smart, and calculating, and she can see right through you. She's a hardass excavation leader. Reliable, practical, systematic—she always has a backup plan. And not only that, she's _tough_, Sam." The Asian paused and let the words sink in, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy him. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

Sam just prompted him with a look that impatiently said, _'Well. Go on.'_ And he was _so_ tempted to just say that basically, Quinn's heaven and he's well, in _hell_ (according the hierarchy of social circles in their field anyway). That he was the pauper, and Quinn was the..._Queen_ (oh the irony.)

"You don't get it." Mike sighed. "She's done with college. I've heard that she's getting her PhD sometime after this excavation. A cum laude amidst a sea of sexist professors and conceited male classmates, there are _jobs_ lining up for her. She's known to give lectures at prestigious universities, even in other countries, and at what age? Twenty four? Twenty five? And to think, after this excavation, in three or four or five—_ten_ years, think of the endless possibilities of success she would have." The Asian shook his head, chest swelling with pride as he thought about their leader. "And honestly? I just couldn't picture her having a family, well, not _now_. Much less than picture her in an actual relationship."

Sam was lost in his own musing. Mike was right. Compared to Quinn's milestones, where was he? In his last year, barely passing some of his lectures, getting to this excavation to get enough credit to pass his Major. Not to mention his dissertation. He hadn't started on it yet. Mike was fucking right. Quinn was smart, charming, not to mention _pretty_. She had the higher-ups wrapped around her pinky. Other known professors from well-known Universities have acknowledged her name as a bright young potential in the field of Archaeology.

They were simply too _different_.

The blonde sighed; too distracted to even notice that Mike was the only one rowing between the two of them. The sun was high. The clouds were thin, smoky. The sky was clear and blue. The ocean breeze sifted through them calmly. Overall, it was a pleasant day. And that only served its purpose to further infuriate him.

"Sam?"

With another sigh, Sam lazily snapped out from his rather _depressing_ thoughts. "'m fine."

"I'm sorry, dude."

Wordlessly, he waved it off. The ache he felt in his chest was too much for him to actually think, let alone speak.

They rowed in silence. Only the soft lilting of the waves, of flowing water, and the motion of rowing could be heard during that afternoon.

Blurs of green and brown neared in Sam's line of vision. And suddenly at that moment, it was as if everything else was shut away. All they could focus on was the breath taking sight of _nature_. They rowed with all their might, excitement and curiosity thrilling their veins, eager to get on land. As their destination was nearing their line of vision, little details added up to their vague description of the place. Aside from endless tall trees that made them think they were on the Amazon, and not in the coasts of Catalonia, the pair was surprised to see a couple of modern houses, and a peaceful village nearby. It would make a great contrasting scene to the rather _primitive_ background.

Upon reaching the beach, Mike couldn't help but compare it to the previous beaches they went to. Its sand was not fine, the opposite of it actually. It was coarse, brownish, slightly grainy, and it would be uncomfortable to the point of pain if someone would proceed on it barefooted. He got out first. And then he went roundabout to tie their boat to the trunk of an old tree nearby.

Sam got out in a haze, barely noticing his partner walking beside him. Both of them were too busy greedily taking up every detail of what their eyes could see. They were a bit surprised about it. An old run-down resort type of diner was situated not too far from where they were standing. There was a small surfing rental which was a couple of blocks adjacent to the diner. A few other buildings and little shops were further placed in the back. And the rest of it was full of forests. Mike walked around to check if there was any path leading to the village they had seen earlier.

"What do you think?"

Instead of answering, the blond crouched down and then scooped up a few amount of sand. He inspected it carefully, applying all the years he had spent inside the classroom differentiating each type of land and analyzing its age. Satisfied with the results, he stood up and dusted off his jeans. He walked towards the tree to which they tied the boat with and began to study it. There were a few half-chopped trunks, and glancing at their rings, he could tell that most of the trees in that forest were at least hundreds of years old. Others were younger ones, only decades still. His eyes took in the picturesque scenery. The buildings and the trees, the posters plastered and the old wooden walls, it was the symbolization of the fusion of the past and the present.

Sam began walking, checking their small perimeter. "Plausible. If the trunk indicates anything, then there should be some hidden goodies in here too." He spotted Mike turning towards a particular direction. "Whoa where are you going dude? Didn't you see the buildings? There might be people—"

"Exactly", Mike huffed out his answer too impatient to hear the rest. "There are people here. We can ask questions about this place. Usually the type of natives that we'd find here are as almost as old as this place anyway."

Sam scoffed. "Dude, are you _insane_?" He rushed up to Mike to stop him and then turned him around to face him. "These people would ask questions. And then questions would need answers and then it would probably go to the rumor mill and _somehow_ it would just end up to oh I don't know the Dean of Archaeology in the University in town?"

"Oh right, like I'll just go _'Good day Ma'am! Hey, do you know any place which we could dig up from? Oh! We don't have any permits. What's it for? Nothing! Just for fun. We love dirt.'_ "Mike rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, because I'm so smart that way."

"That's the point! Why can't you see it? If we talk to any of them, we won't be able to start the mini-excavations and the explorations because there _would_ be eyes and ears watching us. In case you don't remember, you insensitive jerk, the blow will be on Quinn. What about her reputation? It'd be in tatters! She worked too hard to get where she is right now. No, she _can't_ take a risk right now."

"Well, genius, she already _is_!"

That abruptly stomped all the building rage the other had.

Mike sighed, staring at his defeated expression. "Look man, the moment that she actually followed us to that clearing a few days ago showed that she _trusted_ us. _Us._ She trusted our instincts even though she has more experience in this field than the both of us combined. Okay? And none of that _'She can't take a risk'_ shit. As long as it's good for the job, she'll even go to hell and back just to finish what she started."

"But Mike...She...Those bastards would eat her up the second she even slips a little."

"That's what _we're_ here for, doofus. To make sure that never happens. She has a whole team to back her up. We love her too much to let that happen, right?" He nudged him with his elbow as they resumed walking. "Now shut up, mull this thing over in your head, pull your shit together, and help me find a trail path to the village we saw earlier."

Mike resumed his searching, heading south; taking notice of all the little things he passed by. When he saw that it would just lead him deeper into the forest, he returned to the beach only to find his friend searching for the entry path as well.

They made their way around the tiny huts, acknowledging and returning the greetings of foreigners and locals alike. At one point, they stopped at the diner, since according to Mike it would be a great source of information, knowing first-handedly how the waitresses and the chef alike were all gossip-mongers. Grabbing a quick bite, and making small talk with the head chef (a tall burly man with a manic grin on his face), and their destination was revealed to keep going south of the diner, until they reach the back of the local scuba rental shop.

Thanking them for their hospitality, the duo headed out with renewed vigor and the itching curiosity crawling under their skin. A couple of college Italian girls in bikinis stalled them. Of course, gone were the days that they were actually going to skip their work to have fun. Mike and Sam were mature now. They both were in relationships. At least, Mike was. Sam was in a one-sided one.

There was a little clearing, and then a a row of towering trees. The leaves shooting out in the branches, creating a rather intricate yet wonderful canopy-like effect, filtering the sun's rays, giving of a very ephemeral vibe. Nothing else could be heard, only the soft whispering of the wind, the rustling of leaves, and the sound of birds chirping. If Mike was being honest with himself, the location, the soothing aura, the kind natives-without ongoing excavation he would've thought that he was on a vacation.

"How's Tina?"

Shocked because Sam picked _that_ topic out of all topics to be considered as a silence-breaker, Mike was stumped for a few seconds.

"Wow dude your silence is kinda offensive."

The taller shook his head a little. "No, that just kind of caught me off guard." To which he was responded by a _'No shit'_ look from him. "Uhm...Well, this is clearly awkward. But she's okay. Though a bit stressed. Her thesis defense is this year and she's drowning in her work. But you know, in a few days she'll be flying in."

"That's fast" Sam mumbled. "How about her work though?"

"As soon as I mentioned Miss Fabray's name—"

Suddenly, rapid footsteps could be heard.

Sam and Mike whipped their heads towards the source of sound. Both of them blanched at the sight.

Their instincts told them to run.

Their brain told them to stay still.

They did neither.

"_Voi due!_"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Welp. Next one would be coming in a few days.**

_****Voi due! = You two!**_

_ _


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